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azurelunatic: The full moon (blue moon of December 2009) (blue moon)
Assorted. )

2:16 PM 5/11/2010
Chatter in Syne's journal about modesty, skill, and the difference between applied skill and teaching; my meta is starting to go off here

5:23 PM 5/11/2010
Yay chatted with the LF in between cleaning. (OMG EV, he's *younger than you*.)

1:05 AM 5/12/2010
Yay Glee was fun. Picked up Tif from work, ran by Trader Joe's, had dinner with the boys, watched Glee (oh, Puck, you embody the fail sometimes; oh, Finn, you do too), took Tif home.

Someone stumbled into my journal a year later and asked in comments for some updates to the Differences between LJ and DW entry; I made with the wall-o'-txt. There were a whole lot of great LJ feature upgrades during the last year, not the least of which was the a la carte userpics. I didn't go through the code tours in dw_dev as much as I might have in the process of making same. Maybe I can later.

1:45 AM 5/12/2010
Got in an argument with Mike last night about zombies. He thinks that I have not issued him sufficient zombies, after he read Feed. I think he may be ON FUCKING CRACK. Pleh. HOW IS THIS MY LIFE. (This is, by the way, the Mike who exists in my head and in the Cracked Phoenix trilogy. The fictional one.)

3:55 PM 5/12/2010
If you are out drinking with your friends, if your friends let you drink enough so that you pass out, you may need a better class of friends. (I recognize that opinions differ on this portion.)
Pranking drunken/sleeping/passed out friends is an old and noble tradition, but these pranks really ought to be basically harmless, or you need a better class of friends. (Opinions may differ here too, but I'm not actually listening to anyone's arguments from here on down.)
It gets worse, and potentially triggery, fast. )

9:49 PM 5/12/2010
Perhaps Wednesdays are now down on my biological datebook as "let's sleep the better part of 12 hours today". I curl up with a book, and WHAM.

4:08 AM 5/13/2010
Gleefulness:
Spoily for song )

4:45 AM 5/13/2010
http://damned-colonial.dreamwidth.org/476242.html

3:35 AM 5/14/2010
Perhaps I have not mentioned it lately, but [personal profile] jd is effectively my little brother. I mention this because Drewface hadn't realized it.

10:19 AM 5/14/2010
Last night: first there was the season finale for SPN, then there was Iron Man 2.
SPN:
Read more... )

Iron Man 2:
It still thrills me that I can see Russian in the wild and sometimes pick out a word or two. (Now to see if I can ever level that up...) Whenever there was Russian text onscreen I was peering at it to see if I could sound it out or read it.
Read more... )
Should probably send email to best friend inquiring about how he actually let me go on this long without watching the first Iron Man movie.

11:43 am Saturday 15th May
http://community.livejournal.com/note_to_self/1085398.html (remote to what now?)

5:30am, 17th May 2010, Monday
Been dogsitting. Yay dogsitting. Yay dogs. Sleep schedule = kerblooie. Those what follow Suggestions can see that I was entertaining myself. Those what follow my Twitter updates (on Twitter or the LJ archives of same) will see random dog pictures. Been afk of my primary computer & therefore not in IRC much.

Best friend's response to my perfectly sane query re: movies: "I AM IRON MAN:P" Never change, dearheart.
azurelunatic: A red and yellow fruit. Caption: Omnishippers have fever fruit goggles (omnishipper)
4:51 PM 4/22/2010
Have succeeded at Farmers' Market: tasty tasty strawberries, tasty tasty peas, tasty tasty kettle corn. THEY'RE BACK GUYS. :D :D :D

(There was this tedious saga involving something like zoning regulations being enforced unevenly and not entirely sanely ((do not have all details and the ones I was told went ZIP in-one-ear-out-the-other)), and the kettle corn guys got told that they couldn't make their kettle corn on site. Which was more than half the appeal. And they could do it at every other market just not this one. Finally shit got cleared up. Dude said that people were so very excited, and one lady was jumping up and down. Upon getting my kettle corn, I skipped away, cane and all.)

[livejournal.com profile] novembersmith wrote a shiny fusion of Temeraire and Generation Kill, putting some of the marines from GK in the Temeraire universe on dragons. <3_<3 (link is in my Delicious and I'm feeling lazy)

Soon: walk with aunt
Then: TV night yay!

1:32 AM 4/23/2010
Even the least-important, simplest changes are necessary from an organizational standpoint as long as there are trainee developers who need an introduction to working on the code. Or experienced people who need to do something productive but mindless.

3:05 AM 4/23/2010
Very happy to say that aunt reported that she heard back from the vet, and it was not the malignant growth they thought it might have been in the poodle's mouth. So once the poodle recovers from the indignity of having patches of his mouth surgically removed, the poodle should enjoy many more years of being offended about this and that.

TV, with spoily stuff )

Speaky-cat was a bit bitey! He also was not Mr. Nice-Smelling for a while. Asterix managed to total a pair of headphones by running through them. I crocheted on the black-and-white project, which attracted all sorts of feline attention. Yarn will do that. Speaky-cat is so soft and pretty, so we love him anyway. (Ditto Asterix. Oh Basement Cat. <3)

I invented a new way to cause myself accidental and oh-god-I-am-never-doing-that-again pain! Attempt to mimic the hand positions of cartoon characters. I moved my thumb. I think I feel it in my *shoulder*. OH GOD OW, DO NOT DO THAT, I DID IT, AND I'M TELLING YOU, DON'T.

11:37 AM 4/23/2010
Dreamwidth stuff: [personal profile] yvi has a poll on features people are using: http://yvi.dreamwidth.org/134597.html

1:34 AM 4/24/2010
Powered through a good number of suggestions today. Had difficulties until I figured out how to fix them.

It was all kinds of happy windy out! Went with a walk with my aunt and Deacon down by the pier. Drewface called to chew me out for contaminating his dreams with mythbuster!Glambert. Then the LF called, and I talked to him for a bit, and Sis. I'll try and call tomorrow and just chatter.

Had dinner with my aunt, watched Scotland, PA, which was completely bizarre.

Came home and chattered with Drewface about stuff.

11:01 AM 4/24/2010
There is a Glee drinking game: http://flavorwire.com/83330/flavorpills-official-glee-drinking-game

4:43 PM 4/24/2010
Signal-boost: Get Mathsie Home.
azurelunatic: Chickens saying "Cluck Cluck Your Mother's" (cluck)
12:12 AM 4/21/2010
Tonight during Glee, I traumatized IRC with a Luc Valvona song. :D :D :D :D
(Most of the Fishies know what I'm talking about here. Some of you may not. Heh. Heh.)

Perhaps it is a bit windy outside. I hear some banging. Earlier, there was hail. (Hail now makes me smile sweetly and look distant, due to the "DO YOUR WORST!!!" incident. Sweetie, if you yell that at the sky, I don't care if it's Arizona, your ass deserved that hail, darling.) (Insert linked memory of Voltaire-related shenanigans here.)

12:16 AM 4/21/2010
My head is a broken search engine. Tonight, Madonna's "Borderline" made me giggle inappropriately, because my head has associated "Borderline" with a song by a different band, and now the word itself has ... connotations. TURN AROUND AND TAKE MY HAND.

7:27 AM 4/21/2010
So last night I had a long and complicated dream involving god knows what-all. As I was waking up, we and everyone were at some kind of show, and there was some kind of danger, and people (again unspecified, but some were) were thinking about the best way to get the word out, and it turned out that the best way to get the word out was via the Mythbusters. Adam was there, and Jamie was there too, and Jamie had a secret Twitter account that no-one was supposed to know about.

See, we'd just apprehended this guy who had met Stacey at a sushi restaurant, took one look at her general beauty and her legs, and fell for her and (because he was also crazy) basically started stalking her, Read more... )

8:23 AM 4/21/2010
There was apparently another power outage Read more... )

12:25 AM 4/22/2010
I should mention the state of the current Dog Issues. Deacon (the black lab) is still somewhat creaky, but when properly medicated, he's mostly ok except for distance and stairs.

Dazzle (the poodle) was at the vet or somewhere ... the day before yesterday? ... and they noticed something in his mouth that might be nothing and might be some sort of cancer. They removed two things from his mouth. My aunt is quietly freaking out. And the poodle is resistant to being given pain pills, yet he needs them at this point.

Today's events included no walk, because it was amazingly windy (I love the wind, but my aunt does not), Read more... )

Even more meta is brewing in my head. You have been warned. :-P

Tomorrow: farmer's market.
azurelunatic: Hinky: adj: pure evil fuckery afoot. Syn.: suspicious (pure evil fuckery afoot)
Went over to my aunt's house this morning after perhaps not enough sleep. See, some time back the whole family signed up for a tango event (week-long), and of course one does not get prior notice of pet medical emergencies.

Deacon's flank is ugly. The crazed Dalmatian took out a big chunk of skin, and the vet sewed up the rectangular gash diagonally, so the skin isn't quite even, in a sort of alarming fashion. He's all shaved. I'll try and get a picture, poor thing.

He's on doggie pain meds, and my aunt showed me a nifty two-treat trick. If Deacon is given the time to think about it, he will extract a pill from a treat with his tongue, and spit it out. However, if you give him a pill concealed in a treat, and follow it up with another, he will scarf down the first one (with the pill) so he can grab the second one. Oh, dog psychology. (Note: probably would not work on the poodle.)

Deacon is not allowed to hump or be humped, lick his stitches, take stairs, run around excessively, or roll in the yard. (He is allowed to lick his front legs and/or his dick. Licking the poodle's dick is frowned on because this often leads to humping.) Much humping is being forestalled by keeping them apart; if Deacon gets too licky he may wind up wearing the Cone of Shame.

I conked out for a nap for a while, because it looked like Deacon had the right idea. I did not wake up when my aunt called to check in; I did wake up when my best friend called. ♥ He was watching TV and thought of me. So he called. And we chattered. We watched pretty much the whole episode like that. I caught him up to date on some stuff. It was good. He'll be out for a while thanks to a family gathering. I don't even know if I have any relatives left in Iowa. (I appreciate so much that he's now in the habit of checking in with me before he goes out of contact. 1996 left some deep scars, man.)

There was a bit of a tricky moment when it looked like Deacon hadn't gotten his antibiotics with his dinner, but he did get them in the end.

Evidently great fun was had at the tango event. There are instructors who are slashier than Sam and Dean. (Much to the shock and horror of all involved, I shared something truly horrible with [livejournal.com profile] raranax last night, thanks to [livejournal.com profile] norabombay.)

I brought home pizza from Papa Murphy's. My cousin borrowed my beret. Despite the lure of fireworks, I think it's time for an early night.
azurelunatic: A bunch of grapes on the vine. (grapevine)
Somewhere, somewhen, there was chatter with MissKat, phonewise. Perhaps also with Drew? I am not entirely sure when, however.

The Consultation about the Backstabbing Baggage )

I did laundry.

I typed up old poetry.

There were the type of BLT sandwiches that also have pickles and turkey meat. Also sourdough bread. Hooray for San Francisco!

I put my blankie (actually a comforter) and my nightgown in to wash before leaving for happy fun TV night.

There was agoraphobia.

There was discovering that the lost BART card was indeed in my pocket -- freshly washed! I will see later if it's still good.

Chatter with Dawn; Deacon injured. )

Loud people on BART. )

Firefly! )

There was discovering how bad the elevator at 16 & Mission down to the BART station really smells. >_<

There were no BART weirdoes on the return trip.

This was made up for by the drivethrough experience -- CRAZY PEOPLE and cursing. )

I came home to a washing machine claiming its load was not all up ons. I re-balanced it, and set it to dry. (It is not loud, unlike washing, with its spin cycle and such as.)

Hello, morning. Now my nightgown is dry.
azurelunatic: A spray of $CELEBRATORY_FIZZY_BEVERAGE from a beribboned bottle caught in the moment just after the cork pops. (bubbly)
My father called on the 3rd to wish me a happy birthday a bit early. Birthday wishes have been coming in all day for the past two days, and it makes me feel cherished. (My best friend even replied to an e-mail, which is not quite earth-shattering but certainly notable.) Wednesday night was a delightful small group birthday gathering with Star Trek, Love Songs, and many, many forms of dessert (including a somewhat shaken fruit tart like the 2005 one). (The night ended on a slightly scary note with a freaky BART stalker, but I got home safely.)

Very excitingly, I now share a birthday with not only my "twin" from elementary school, but also [livejournal.com profile] rizzo's new daughter! Congratulations!!

My aunt and I went to the farmers' market as is usual for Thursday mornings. I caught a bit of a nap while she collected lunch and stuff, then she picked me up and we headed for a little beach she'd found, dogs and all.

The beach had cellphone reception about as bad as my cellphone reception at home, so joining [livejournal.com profile] zarhooie's birthday songs on my voicemail was another message from my father.

We spread out towels and had sandwiches and lounged in the sun. We both had books. The dogs found their own entertainment. Deacon was mostly drooling on things. The poodle decided to say hello to everyone, and eventually found a golden retriever who was playing catchball with the sea, and there was much running around. Deacon knocked over the dog pop-up tent from the inside. He also got sand all over every wet part of his face, including the drool. He even found a dead seagull to roll in!

I got sand all over too, but happily not in places that no sand should be. My sunblock seemed to have been sufficient, so I am not toasted.

When we got back, my sister called! We chatted about this and that.

I didn't manage to get a call in to my best friend, and when I stopped saying that I'd have a moment later, it was too late. Ah well, there will be other days and other calls.



As always, this day is not wholly mine. I will never forget 1989. It has been 20 years now.
azurelunatic: Cordless phone showing a heart.  (phone)
It took a while, but I made a sensible decision regarding the reception issue in my apartment. For those not familiar, I have approximately a spherical foot (more or less, often less) of reliable reception in my apartment. This has resulted in me adopting a peculiar elbow-on-desk pose to hold my phone in the right place without moving, which is really an unwise choice for conversations that can easily take an hour.

My brain finally caught up with the rest of me, and then it was only a matter of finding something of the appropriate height, and figuring out where my headset was.

Azz in profile, cellphone perched on upended vase

Closer view of phone, its rainbow dangly, and the cable spaghetti.

Upon examining the bottom of what has been known as "the fish" since [livejournal.com profile] sorcha007 first produced it as a vessel in which to hold laundry quarters, I realized that I had in fact been classifying it incorrectly since Day 1. "The fish" is not, in fact, a vase. It is a (plastic, American) yard. This does much to explain why it is so extremely fucking ugly. (I've grown attached to it, for whatever reason. I'm unsure why.)

I did manage to call my best friend on Sunday, immediately after I accomplished my feat of telephonery. He was, however, watching a movie with his parents; he called back somewhat later, and we had a cheerful chat.

Guide Dog Aunt has successfully quit her job with the puppy daycare, and is now launching out into business on her own. Her first official client is an agoraphobic Dalmatian. This made it into the conversation, and we came up with several bad phobias for particular breeds of dog to have. (Warning, these are not even bad puns; they're just very lame.)

Read more... )
azurelunatic: DW: my eloquence cannot be captured in 140 chars (twitter)
In the last 24 hours, I posted the following to Twitter:


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azurelunatic: Vivid pink Alaskan wild rose. (Default)
[personal profile] ursamajor picked the following interests of mine to ask about:

poodle! stop humping!, yeeth, Cordelia Vorkosigan, duct tape sword guys, ectogenesis, egyptian fayoumi, Liquid Satan, Malkavian

She mentioned that most* of them sounded as if they were fantasy-related. In actual practice, the links are often tenuous at best.

Read more... )

Curious about some of my other interests? Ask away! Want to have something to write about? Say the word, and I'll pick a handful of yours for you to post about.
azurelunatic: California poppies, with a bright blue sky and the sun. (California girl)
Yesterday's walkies got canceled on account of HOT. Everything was fine, although there was a lot of panting, until we started to walk up a nice sandy hill with a whole lot of HOT.

Well, it wasn't quite like that. Because first, you see, we had to park. Ever tried parking at a public park near San Francisco on the first hot sunny Sunday of the spring? Heh. That was entertaining, and we parked about as far away from the place where we usually walk as we usually walk. And parking was a pain, and then my aunt had to go back for sunscreen, and for the doggie treat bag, and the dogs were rather impatient about all this noise ...

...and when we actually get to where we can let them off the leash, they are Not All About It, but manfully (dogfully?) Keep On until we hit the hill. (The poodle only tries to run into the parking lot twice, which is good, for him.) The poodle scrambles up and hides in the shade of a hummock, panting. Deacon is trying to keep all four feet off the ground at the same time. Since he is a creaky old dog, this translates to lifting each foot as high as possible while standing gingerly.

"Do you think it will help if I dip his feet in water?" asked my aunt.

"I think it'll help get his feet muddy," I opine.

She does anyway. He's still not happy. We turn around. Rather than walking all the way back to the car and playing fun games with whoever parked behind vs. the dog ramp, I stayed with the dogs while my aunt brought the car. I was only asked once if I was going to move my car (the car I was standing next to of course naturally being "mine"); happily, by that time, I saw my aunt coming around the bend and was able to indicate her car as the one I belonged with, and the dogs were loaded with very little fuss.


On Saturday, there was something that was not quite an Incident, but was definitely Interesting. A smaller dog who had been going the other way decided that the poodle was the *best thing on earth*, and was sniffing him, running around with him, trying to lick his dick, and trying to hump him. The poodle was all about the running around, wasn't so into the licking, and was Definitely Not About the attempted humping, and there was a little bit of snapping. "You tell him!" cheered the owner of the Other Dog.

The owner eventually tired of the sport (well, that happened about a minute in) and tried to get a leash on the dog. That was easier attempted than done, and there was a bit of doing. The poodle was not much help. The other dog was eventually collared and dragged off, and we continued on our merry way.
azurelunatic: California poppies, with a bright blue sky and the sun. (California girl)
Yesterday's walkies got canceled on account of HOT. Everything was fine, although there was a lot of panting, until we started to walk up a nice sandy hill with a whole lot of HOT.

Well, it wasn't quite like that. Because first, you see, we had to park. Ever tried parking at a public park near San Francisco on the first hot sunny Sunday of the spring? Heh. That was entertaining, and we parked about as far away from the place where we usually walk as we usually walk. And parking was a pain, and then my aunt had to go back for sunscreen, and for the doggie treat bag, and the dogs were rather impatient about all this noise ...

...and when we actually get to where we can let them off the leash, they are Not All About It, but manfully (dogfully?) Keep On until we hit the hill. (The poodle only tries to run into the parking lot twice, which is good, for him.) The poodle scrambles up and hides in the shade of a hummock, panting. Deacon is trying to keep all four feet off the ground at the same time. Since he is a creaky old dog, this translates to lifting each foot as high as possible while standing gingerly.

"Do you think it will help if I dip his feet in water?" asked my aunt.

"I think it'll help get his feet muddy," I opine.

She does anyway. He's still not happy. We turn around. Rather than walking all the way back to the car and playing fun games with whoever parked behind vs. the dog ramp, I stayed with the dogs while my aunt brought the car. I was only asked once if I was going to move my car (the car I was standing next to of course naturally being "mine"); happily, by that time, I saw my aunt coming around the bend and was able to indicate her car as the one I belonged with, and the dogs were loaded with very little fuss.


On Saturday, there was something that was not quite an Incident, but was definitely Interesting. A smaller dog who had been going the other way decided that the poodle was the *best thing on earth*, and was sniffing him, running around with him, trying to lick his dick, and trying to hump him. The poodle was all about the running around, wasn't so into the licking, and was Definitely Not About the attempted humping, and there was a little bit of snapping. "You tell him!" cheered the owner of the Other Dog.

The owner eventually tired of the sport (well, that happened about a minute in) and tried to get a leash on the dog. That was easier attempted than done, and there was a bit of doing. The poodle was not much help. The other dog was eventually collared and dragged off, and we continued on our merry way.
azurelunatic: Scissors cutting film. NaNoWriMo 2004 (Home Movies from the Cutting-Room Floor)
Went up to my aunt's last night and watched movies with her. A load of Netflix had arrived. First up: Don't Tell Her It's Me, a very 80s romantic comedy about the brother of a romance writer being made over and set up with a reporter. The dogs mobbed me once I'd sat down. Deacon decided that he wanted to be petted and also that his face was itchy and my skirt was the best thing available to itch it on. The poodle decided something of the same, and started rubbing his face all over ... on Deacon. Poodles

In the middle of the movie, I glanced over into the kitchen and saw the head and shoulders of a certain Bad Dog -- Deacon was doing what is known as "counter surfing": standing up at the counter with front paws on the counter, cheerfully eating off it. That was my aunt's soup. Bad dog. (Hasn't been fed! Ever!) 

Next up: Henry Poole Is Here, a weird, character-driven film about a guy named Henry Poole who moves into a quiet little neighborhood. Everyone has their own little tragic story. He was totally better in "Bad Blood". It was an all right movie. 

Of course, when I got back home, I didn't wind up getting to sleep until way, way too late. I'm going around the clock again, freewheeling. This is, um, not such a good plan. 

This is also a test of the RTE in Google Chrome, thus the fun markup. 
azurelunatic: Vivid pink Alaskan wild rose. (Default)
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azurelunatic: stick figure about to hit potato w/ flaming tennis racket, near jug of gasoline &amp; sack of potatoes (bad idea)
My aunt and I were in the grocery store seeking ground turkey for supper when I saw it: a log of what appeared to be woven bacon. "Omigod!" I cried. "A Bacon Explosion! ... I didn't think those existed except for with hobbyists on the internet!"

"That's where I saw it," said the meat department guy, a fellow perhaps my age, with a lot of piercings. He looked proud of his accomplishment.

"Should we get some?" asked my aunt, eying it dubiously.

"Yes!" I said.

"What is that?" some random guy asked.

"Woven bacon, wrapped around sausage," I said at about the same time as the meat department guy did.

The meat department guy wrapped it up for us. "Please tell me how it turns out," the meat department guy said. I got the feeling he was slightly surprised that someone had bought it, and perhaps was scheming about the next crazy meat-related experiment he could see if people bought, and was probably going to cheerfully tell his boss that see, someone bought it, he was right, it would too sell.

"Why did I let you talk me into getting this?" my aunt asked as we were walking for the car. "People could DIE from this!"

"From trichinosis or a heart attack?" I asked cheekily.

"Nice having known you," my cousin put in from upstairs, as I announced myself and the Grand Purchase upon our return. (He, too, is a denizen of the internets, and knows what a Bacon Explosion is without me having to define it.)

I put it in the oven below the hamburgers while they were grilling, with the temperature probe stuck in and set to 170°F.

a woven log of bacon, uncooked


Eventually, the hamburgers were done. I switched to cooking it at 330°F. The top started to look done after a while, and the internal temperature hit. However, the lower half of the bacon was not yet done. I turned it over and continued to cook it. After the internal temperature was well above where it had to be, I turned the broiler back on low again.

Ten minutes later, it was done! (Well, eight and some. My aunt smelled something suspiciously like overdone bacon. Some of the edges were blackened.)

a woven log of bacon, cooked


My aunt and I took slices. Yum! I forewent the barbecue sauce. My aunt nibbled off the bacon from hers, then started tossing pieces of sausage to the dogs. (She is not a fan of Italian sausage.) I was still eating my tasty sausagey slice. One of the tosses went wild, and the sausage chunk ricocheted off my laptop's power cord and slithered under the couch I was sitting on. The poodle dove after it, upsetting me, causing me to drop my table knife on his head and also my skirt. He paid that no mind, and kept rooting about under the hem of my skirt and under the couch. I abandoned my position. My aunt grabbed the abandoned knife and fished the sausage back out from under the couch.

I repaired to IRC to soothe my ruffled composure.

The Random Word hEll bot got involved. )

I tried another, thinner, slice, this time with barbecue sauce. I am not much of a barbecue sauce fan, however, and it didn't taste quite like I thought it should. Maybe it should be glazed in the last few minutes of baking.

The rest of it is in the refrigerator. I may have a slice of it with breakfast. A very thin slice.

(Cross-posted to [livejournal.com profile] trashy_eats.)

Updates.
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